Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Bedtime Blues

Oh, bedtime. How I hate you.

I used to love you.

But not since the move to big boy beds. (THREE months ago!)

Bedtime used to mean a respite. A chance to recharge, and maybe do something for myself.

Now it means sitting guard over boys for at least an hour, often two.

On Sunday "naptime" involved the boys pushing a mattress to the floor. I walked in when I heard a thunk and crying, and they told me they were "diving into the pool." Alex ripped out the entire back end of his shorts during the time he was supposed to be sleeping in his bed.

We've rewarded, we've yelled, we've separated (temporarily, it's only a 3-bedroom house), we've encouraged, we've persuaded, we've soothed, we've given time outs...to no avail.

Now we've taken away the privilege of going to sleep in the big boy bed for the next couple of days. After a terrible nap and an even worse bedtime, Isaac has been relegated to the pack and play for a couple nights.

I have my doubts that will work, but even at the end of my parenting rope, I know we have to try something. It seems the lure of goofing around with the brothers is worth whatever punishment mom and dad might mete out, and I'm not sure how to change that.


I sure hope they outgrow this phase before they outgrow the pack and play!

(And believe me, I am thinking ahead to just how early I'll be waking them up when they are teenagers. You know what they say about paybacks.)

© Trippin' Mama 2011

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